Camping Out for Tickets and Whatnot

Have you ever stood in line for something so long, it was actually camping? You know, like spending the night somewhere for concert tickets? Or a new piece of gadgetry? Or a video game?

I’ve been to hundreds of concerts, and have never camped-out once.

I seem to remember paying someone who was planning to spend the night in front of the Charleston Civic Center, to buy me a pair of tickets along with his. But I don’t even remember the band involved at this point. Maybe the Police? I’m not sure.

But what about you? Have you ever done such a thing?

Sometimes I go to Best Buy, and there’s a freaking tent city erected on the sidewalk out front. And while I’m walking into the store, I look over and see the free-range nerds sitting there in Coleman camping chairs (Transformers edition), waiting for the release of the new G3 GamePants 3000, or whatever. And I shake my head in sadness.

I love gadgets, but I’m not a foaming fanatic about them. I can’t imagine myself ever taking up residence in Douche Village, just so I could brag that I was the very earliest of adopters. I mean, seriously. Some people are defined by that kind of crapola…

But what about concerts? Yeah, that might be my weak spot. I was trying to think of some shows I could theoretically see myself sleeping on a sidewalk for, and it’s a short list.

A one-off Replacements reunion would probably get me out there. And before Joe Strummer died, I would’ve camped for the Clash. I never saw the Clash, and that’s one of my biggest musical regrets.

What about you? Have you ever spent the night on a sidewalk outside a store or box office, for the privilege of buying something very early? Tell us about it, won’t you? Did anything interesting happen?

Also, what might get you out there today? Anything? It would have to be something pretty freaking extraordinary for me to do it…

And I overslept today (it had nothing to do with the Clash), and I got a late start on this one. Sorry it’s so… abbreviated. I’m going into the yurt tomorrow, and might not be able to update again until the weekend. But we’ll see how it goes.

I’m half drunk so I feel qualified to post. Guess what I came home to today? Good guess. No, it was a goddamn pig. In my house! A tiny fucking pig! So that was nice. I don’t allow dogs or cats in the house. So a pig was a nice surprise. I’m a clean freak. I think I’ll slit my wrist.

Listen, I might need some help on the whole anal thing. It’s the same old story – “it hurts!” or “i poop from there!” but I’m thinking that I can prolly come back with, “you moved a mother fucking tiny pig into our house!” Right? Bend over, toots. That’s what I’m thinking.

CADude – Glad you are enjoying Light Years. I’ll check out Toy Matinee at my first opportunity. I know a little about it/them, but have not heard it. Of course I won’t sqeeze the music out of it by subjecting it to MP3 compression, but the CD is still in print so it shouldn’t be too expensive.

Erica – Fun story nicely told. And, hey, even Deadheads have to urinate somewhere. I’m just trying to picture how they achieved the height necessary to land in the dumpster. Specially the ladies.

Lee Harvey – Buddy Hackett died? Then what the hell am I doing in this damn line?

@ Jason & Hot Fuzz – I LOVE WILLIAM SHITNER. I love everything about him. I want to have a beer with him. Him and Pauly Shore, but the Pauly Shore from Son-In-Law, not the current douchebag Pauly Shore.

Brynhildr-Like CADude, I never quite made the connection, it seems I’ve always heard it pronounced more like “pool-holes”, but that might be just the broadcasters I listen to. It will always be “poo-holes” from this day forward. I also noticed my unintentional funny contained the word “steam” which I found funny this morning as I was catchinp up on the comments.